


In Oh So Many Ways

by blueskypenguin



Series: Help 'Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskypenguin/pseuds/blueskypenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will wakes in a brand new world and they take the time to enjoy the benefits of their moniker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Oh So Many Ways

Dean woke to the prickly sensation of being watched, and it was only the feel of a familiar mattress beneath him and the press of warm skin against his side that stopped him reaching for the nearest weapon. “Cas, that’s pretty creepy sometimes, you know.”

He turned his head, letting his eyes slip open to acknowledge Castiel’s intent gaze. As Cas frowned at him, Dean tried to remember just how they’d gotten here and how he’d only managed to strip Castiel down to his boxer shorts and no further. The series of events turned sluggishly in his mind, from his and Castiel’s frantic orgasms down in the panic room only yesterday afternoon, through the announcement that the apocalypse was, in fact, on permanent hiatus and finally to the poker game and whiskey chasers.

He felt the slight pressure of a hangover at his temples, but after some of the shit he’d been through leading up to and during the apocalypse, his first bout of mild alcohol poisoning in this _post_ -apocalyptic world hardly register on his pain scale.

The silence stretched between them, becoming less comfortable by the second until finally Dean forced his sleep-lax muscles into a frown, “What is it?” It come out a little more defensive than perhaps he’d have liked, but Cas had always had a talent for seeing Dean’s meaning, and not just listening to his words.

“I understand this is typically when things become awkward,” Castiel’s expression was characteristically blank and his tone was grave – the kind of stoic graveness saved for matters of world-ending importance, typically.

Dean was stunned speechless, or perhaps it was just the mild hangover and bone-deep tiredness, and Cas continued, clarifying: “The morning after the night before.”

He couldn’t help it; he snorted in genuine amusement and used what little energy he could muster to push up and over, rolling Castiel onto his back. It had the unfortunate consequence of trapping his own arm under the angel’s body, but it brought his chest against Cas’ and left Dean straddling one of Cas’ legs; it probably looked a lot smoother than it was.

Then again, Dean had always looked a lot smoother than he was.

“I don’t understand,” Cas said simply.

Dean grinned down at his angel. “Yeah, I see that, but Cas... we’ve done the facing-this-in-the-cold-light-of-day bit. Hell, last night I met your Dad. Mom? Dad. Whatever - this?”

He let the fingers trapped beneath Cas’ body stroke over the arch of spine they were curled against in small, restricted movements and watched Cas shudder beneath him.

“This ...won’t ever be awkward,” he said quickly, “Now what the hell is _that_?” He didn’t stop the push of his fingers against skin and bone, and Cas continued to stretch and even hitch gasps for air. It wasn’t the small of Castiel’s back, more like the middle, below his shoulder-blades, sort of like where –

“No way,” Dean breathed, watching Cas’ eyelids flutter and feeling his cock fill and thicken rapidly as he pressed his fingertips in firmly, “No _way_.”

As Cas bucked, he pushed his erection into Dean’s hip, groaning at the friction it caused.

“Phantom sensation,” the angel gulped, and Dean skimmed his free hand down his side lightly, trailing closer to Castiel’s cock as it pushed insistently through the improbably clean dark-blue boxer shorts. “Folded wings, ah-”

Cas’ gasp was swallowed down as Dean took his cock in hand, swiping his thumb over the head and using the leaking pre-come to slick the smooth pace as he pumped.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean cajoled, stroking and pushing his fingers on Cas’ spine in time with the motion of his wrist. Cas seemed stuck on the edge, there so quickly and held so close to the threshold; Dean pressed his lips to Cas’ shoulder as he pulled his hand from Cas’ cock just long enough to free his own from his shorts and take them both in hand.

With hard flesh moving steadily through his loose grasp, Dean murmured lowly into Cas’ ear as he pushed his fingers into the angel’s spine savagely.

“Come on, come for me, Cas. Can’t believe you have fucking _wings_ ; we won, Cas, and you’re an archangel now. Come on Cas, celebrate with me.”

It was as close to a simultaneous orgasm as Dean had ever gotten, and as the world whited-out, Dean fancied he saw the swirl of oil-slick rainbows in the shape of impossibly wide, tensed wings.

* * *

Whereas Dean was all but passing out to pure white, it was white to which Sam woke.

Sure, he was warm, sleeping on sheets which weren’t as wash-worn as usual and to the scent of mint and strawberries.

True, he also had Gabriel’s head comfortably pillowed on his chest.

Still, he opened his eyes and the prevailing colour was _white_.

“Gabriel?”

“Mmhmm?” The mumble was lazy, mouthed into the skin over Sam’s heart. It probably made the way it skipped a beat all the more obvious to the archangel, but Sam didn’t really care. For now and the foreseeable future, all was right with the world...

...and for some reason, he was cocooned in blankets and comforters.

Sam closed his eyes and let the hand on Gabriel’s shoulder slip up into his hair to stroke in long, slow motions. This was undoubtedly the easiest, most comfortable morning he’d ever woken to. “Not that I’m complaining,” he stroked his thumb over the sensitive skin behind Gabriel’s ear, “but what’s with the nest?”

Gabriel huffed with an audible grin. “Nest? Do I look like a bird to you? Maybe I just felt like shutting the world out a little longer.”

“Sounds like fun,” Sam agreed, the words slurring somewhat as he used his free hand to pull his lover’s knee up until Gabriel’s leg was slung over Sam’s hips. “Just stay a while.”

He felt Gabriel lift his head, but couldn’t muster the energy to open his eyes and meet Gabriel’s gaze. When he spoke, his tone was soft and indulgent, and Sam had a feeling he knew what that gaze was saying anyway. “Not going anywhere, Sammy.”

* * *

He had a feeling he’d dozed off but given that when he woke again, it was to the same white-out he’d experienced earlier, it would seem he hadn’t slept for long.

Not long enough for Gabriel to get bored of this bed-fort, at least.

Sam was amazed he wasn’t sweating his very soul out, after all: he did tend to put out heat like a furnace while he slept. With Gabriel, who was typically warmer than your average human being, sprawled over him and innumerable blankets and quilts cocooning them in bed, Sam half expected to have spontaneously combusted by now.

Not that he’d made a regular habit of considering how best to deal with sharing a bed with an archangel with a naturally higher core temperature than his own. Obviously.

The only explanation was that Gabriel was controlling the ambient temperature, and that meant he was – for the moment – perfectly happy to share space, heat and air with Sam in their own little down-and-polyester fortress.

 _Not a nest, my ass_ , thought Sam fondly.

“Stop thinking so loud, Winchester,” grumbled the archangel. “I’m trying to sleep.”

He rolled his eyes; if Gabriel was trying to sleep, why exactly were his fingers drumming out a gentle rhythm along Sam’s ribs?

Sam used the arm he had slung loosely over Gabriel’s hips to pull his lover just that little bit closer. His other arm was flung into the wide, empty space of the bed, and as Gabriel all but nuzzled Sam, cat-like against his skin, one smaller hand found its way to thread together their fingers.

It was pretty much perfect as far as Sam was concerned: an aborted apocalypse, no demons or devils out for his soul or body, a lover in his arms he knew he didn’t deserve but was quite happy to keep anyway, and his brother in the next room with Cas, happy and less burdened.

It didn’t get any better than that.

Which was probably why he just _had_ to say something to ruin the moment – it was the Winchester way. He hadn’t even meant to speak, yet the words seemed to fall from his lips without any input from his brain: “I don’t know what I do next.”

“Breakfast,” Gabriel replied, his swift response and refusal to move implying he was deliberately misunderstanding.

But Sam had started, and he figured he may as well go on. “I was thinking a little more long term, Gabriel.”

“Brunch.”

“ _Gabriel_.”

A sigh was huffed into Sam’s chest. “Sam. Really?” He lifted his head and rested his chin on Sam’s breastbone. “Can’t you enjoy this for _one day_? We saved the world,” he squeezed Sam’s hand gently. “You can do anything you want to. You’ve earned that.”

Sam brought his and Gabriel’s joined hands to his lips, rubbing his thumb over the archangel’s knuckles, and spoke softly into Gabriel’s skin. “I don’t know what I want to do.”

Gabriel smiled indulgently, “That’s okay - we’ve got time. We’ve got all the time in the post-apocalyptic world.”

He pondered this for a moment, and just when Gabriel was becoming suspicious of Sam’s silence, Sam grinned. “You know what? You’re right.” He braced Gabriel against his own body and rolled them over, settling himself neatly between the archangel’s thighs. “Breakfast can wait.”

Gabriel had just long enough to be surprised - and compliment his lover’s exceptional reasoning skills - before Sam covered his mouth with his own. As Sam trailed open-mouthed kisses down Gabriel’s neck, nipping at Gabriel’s collarbone and leaving shallow teeth-marks in his wake, Sam kept his hand clasped in the archangel’s.

“You’re a _tease_ ,” Gabriel breathed, grinning and arching as Sam’s teeth grazed the skin of his abdomen. “A shameless - _oh, wow_.”

Sam hummed a laugh and Gabriel groaned, “Could you not do that around my dick? Or this’ll be over embarrassingly soon.”

Sam kept one hand linked with Gabriel’s, their fingers twined and his thumb brushing over the archangel’s none-existent pulse point in his wrist; he released Gabriel’s left hand. As he took Gabriel’s cock into his mouth, he gently took Gabriel’s balls in hand, stroking and rolling carefully as he took Gabriel as deep as his gag-reflex allowed.

Pulling back with a slick pop, Sam released Gabriel’s cock from his mouth and smirked, his tongue darting out to swirl around the head, clearing spit and precome from the tip. “This won’t be over any time ‘soon’.”

* * *

“I can smell bacon,” Dean sniffed, his eyes closed and body relaxed as he lay with his back to Castiel’s chest. He’d been drifting in and out of post-coital sleep for a few hours, each time he’d waking to Castiel’s warmth at his back and lips against his neck; this time was no different, with one of Castiel’s legs insinuated between his own and their hands entwined.

Castiel’s breath stirred Dean’s hair, “Gabriel is making breakfast. Or a late lunch, as would be more appropriate for the time of day. Are you hungry?” He ran a hand over the plane of Dean’s stomach, his arm slung over the man’s chiselled hip.

“Hmm,” Dean affirmed, “Means we have to move.”

“A sacrifice worth making?”

“Jury’s out.” He kept his eyes resolutely shut even as he shifted in Castiel’s arms to turn his face to the angel. “Are Sam and Bobby up?”

Castiel used the easy-access to Dean’s mouth to full advantage, sucking slightly at his bottom lip. Dean’s lips were still a little swollen and tender, long minutes over blissful hours taking their toll, and he hummed happily as Castiel’s tongue swiped over them. Against Dean’s mouth, Castiel said, “Sam is in the kitchen with Gabriel. Robert is still sleeping.”

Dean considered this for a moment, then opened one eye and gazed carefully at Castiel. “Are there pancakes?”

“There will be,” Castiel didn’t smile, but the amusement was clear in his tone and the sparkle in his eyes.

“I suppose that’s worth it, then,” Dean conceded, drawing Castiel into a soft kiss. “Ready for the brand new world?”


End file.
